


Archaeology

by Miss Prompty (MissDeathy)



Series: Who/What/Where/When Prompts [2]
Category: Supernatural, X-Men
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5327372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDeathy/pseuds/Miss%20Prompty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who: Archaeologist<br/>What: Pen<br/>Where: Courthouse<br/>When: Noon</p>
            </blockquote>





	Archaeology

_Click._

"Sam."

_Click._

" _Sam._ "

_Click._

"Samuel Winchester," Kalida snapped quietly, "If you don't stop clicking that god-forsaken pen, I will stick it in your jugular."

The clicking ceased. "There are other ways of asking people to stop."

"I'm a little on edge, Sam. Sue me. I've never been on a case with an archaeologist, let alone one who's aware of what we do and called us in before anyone died."

"You're nervous because no one is dead?"

" _Yes_ , Sam. If people were dead, we'd know more about the thing, maybe even what it is." Kallie shifted her weight uncomfortably. The courthouse was full of all sorts of people: some innocent, some not; victims of the guilty. All in all, the pristine courthouse was giving her a headache. As for the hunt? They had almost no information on what they were hunting. She resisted the urge to tap her boot on the marble floor.

"You have a point, but maybe we can save everybody this time," he finished quietly. Everything about him screamed regret over the numerous lives lost on the last hunt.

"Sam and Allison?" A tall woman in a suit approached the Winchesters. Everything about her screamed no-nonsense. 

"That's us," Kallie affirmed warmly, stepping forward to shake her hand. "You're Dr. Lambet?"

"Jeanne, please. Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course," Sam supplied. "Do you have somewhere we could speak privately?"

"Would you like to grab some lunch? I've been in that damned courtroom since 8 this morning."

"Any specific place in mind?" Sam  _was_ hungry. Kallie hadn't even stopped to get breakfast that morning after Ellen called, asking them to "please get your asses to DC as soon as you can."

Jeanne nodded. "Jack's is down the street. I know Jack. He'll give us a private table." 

True to Jeanne's word, Jack gave them a booth in a secluded corner. Once they were settled, Sam started the conversation. 

"Don't take this the wrong way, but how do you know about our line of work?"

Kallie choked a bit on her lettuce. The flood of Jeanne's various supernatural memories was a bit much to take in once bite.

Jeanne raised an amused eyebrow. "Sam, most of us archaeologists do. You don't spend years in tombs and caves without running into some spook or another. We have hunter contacts in every country we do work in."

With a concerned half-glance at his recovering sister, Sam continued his questioning. "How did you find us?"

"Ellen Harvelle is our connection in the U.S."

Sam nodded. "What did she tell you about us?" 

Kallie gave up trying to blink away the headache and fished out her flask and a painkiller. 

"That you were one of the best hunting teams in the continental United States and that you weren't tied up in another job." Jeanne punctuated the end of her sentence with a bite into her sandwich.

Kallie nodded as the pain ebbed away. "She also told you to call me Allison." 

"Apparently it helps keep you under the radar."

After she finished her chicken salad, Kallie asked, "So what do you have for us, Jeanne?"

"There's a Native American burial ground being prepped for excavation." 

The Winchesters gave each other long-suffering looks. "Where?"

"The Smithsonian plans to excavate the entire Trail of Tears. I've been trying to convince them it's a bad idea, but the judge won't rule in favor of the Cherokee."

"I guess they forget that this land isn't ours." Kallie let out an exasperated sigh. "It's a miracle the museums don't have a death toll. A  _goldfish_ would know this excavation is a bad idea."

Sam made a sound of agreement.

"It's because we work very closely with hunters. Cursed and haunted objects get burnt. Everything is replaced with replicas. Nobody notices."

"But the Trail of Tears is prime vengeful spirit ground and every skeleton is going to a museum." Kallie massaged her temples. "There will be hundreds of angry spirits that have had a few centuries to bathe in their anger. Remind me why we're trying to save these wet wads of cardboard."

"Innocent people will die if we don't," Sam supplied.

"Or we could let them terrorize all the racists that claim America is only for white people.  _That_ would be poetic justice." Kallie smirked, thinking of Gabriel. The messenger angel would definitely be up for it.   
_Thanks for the idea, sweet cheeks._  
  
Kallie snorted to herself.

"Innocent people would still get caught up in it."

"And the targeted people would choose to see it as confirmation that they were right. Natives would be seen as an enemy once again."

_Hear that, feathers? Just kill the bastards or convince them to be rational beings._

_Kal, I've been alive for millennia. I think I can handle a few racist bigots._

_There's more than a few, Gabe._

"So what's the plan? How are we going to save the life of every archaeologist and museum bureaucraton site?"  


"I can get fake credentials for you two. That will get you on site." 

**Author's Note:**

> I actually really liked this one.  
> If you want, feel free to continue where I left off! I'd love to read other people's ideas of how they managed or didn't manage to pull it off.


End file.
